I freeze mid-step, just drinking her in.My pulse goes heavy, my throat dry.
“Holy shit,” I breathe.
And for a long heartbeat I don’t move.I just stand there, watching her, knowing this is more than a man staring at a woman.
It’s a soldier, a rancher, a man who thought he’d closed every door, realizing he’s been standing at the threshold of something he didn’t think he’d ever have.
A someone.My someone.
And it’s her.
Chapter 14-Bit
When a cowboy who looks at you like he’s about to devour you?Like every fiber of his being is honed in on your exact location, and he wants to consume you?
Let’s just say survival instinct kicks in.
Sawyer bursts through the door of the guest room where I’m sitting on the edge of the bed—wondering what the heck I’m doing with my life—and the look on his face?It’s everything.
Every cell in my body says run even as another voice, deeper and older, whispers stay.
So instead of throwing myself at the hot-as-Hades man, I stand and step back—like an idiot—and corner myself between the bed and the wall.
My palms flatten against the wood, heart racing.
It doesn’t matter.
Because really?I want to be caught.
By him.
When he strides forward and tells me in no uncertain terms that I’mwith him, well, it just eases all those doubts and fears that’ve been pestering me all day.
He walks me to the main bedroom.
We flirt.
We watch each other.
Some playful banter.
A little striptease.
“Holy shit,” he murmurs when I’m almost naked in front of him.
He cups one big, calloused hand around the back of my neck and drags me to his hot, hard body, the sound that leaves me isn’t fear.
It’s relief.
The kiss he gives me isn’t just a kiss—it’s a sweep, a tide, a promise—and I get caught up in it.
And more?I absolutely fucking love it.
“Mm, you taste so good.I need you naked.Now.Wanna see all of you, Lil Bit,” he growls against my neck, his breath hot enough to make my knees shake.
Sawyer leans back, fingers hooking at the waistband of my panties, turning us slow like a dance until he’s sitting on the edge of the bed and I’m standing between his knees.
“Sawyer,” I whisper his name, trembling.
